


The Dancer

by awkwardeye



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Stripper!Mikasa
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-08
Updated: 2017-03-10
Packaged: 2018-08-07 11:09:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7712605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/awkwardeye/pseuds/awkwardeye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Levi admires a dancer</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so idk if I'll add more chapters but i was going through my old docs and I just really liked this collection of drabbles I wrote a while back so i posted this. If i do add more chapters they'll probably be really short.

I’d be lying if I said that I go to strip clubs because my friends convince me to because, one, all of my friends are either dead or have lives and, two, I’m a lonely loser and there's something about disgusting hole-in-the-wall city strip clubs that makes me feel like less of a piece of shit than I am. To put it simply.

What’s not to like? Half naked women, annoying music, lung shredding smoke, and loud, horny, lonely bastards that make me feel like a fucking winner because I don’t tuck my shirt into my briefs and my suits are all tailored. The real self esteem booster: the irritated topless lady saying some shit like “that’ll be twenty” after she shakes her ass in my face. Twenty what? Dollars, cents, showers, who the fuck knows?

Plus, there’s this one dancer. It’s nothing special. I’ve only seen her dance once and she almost never does private dances; so I’ve never spoken to her, but she’s the only reason why I’m here tonight.

The lights dim, the music softens, and everyone just knows. It’s like she’s some kind of goddess, the whole world stops the moment she walks out. All eyes are on her and she deserves every stare and sudden intake of breath as she walks toward the pole.

Maybe it’s the way how her hips sway when she walks, in time to the music, or maybe it’s the way how her lingerie hugs every curve of her body, lifting and tucking everything into just the right place. Hell, it might even be the way how her hair falls across her face when she does that move when she’s hanging from the pole and I can literally see her chest rising and falling.

All I knows is that I think I’d probably thank her if she spilled wine on my freshly pressed and bleached white shirt right now. I might punch her first, but I’d still feel special.

And she's got these eyes. Everyone has eyes, yeah, but there's something about hers and the way she seems to see right through me. Maybe she is seeing past me; she doesn't know me or have any reason to find me in the crowd.


	2. meeting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i switched from first to third pov because idk lmao

She whispers something into his ear and the fabric over her breasts loosens, falls away. He catches the garment, lets the words fall. His fingers remind her of the violin lessons she took as a little girl, his perfectly clipped nails wary of strings that may snap with their thrumming.

Mikasa is a lot of things, but she’s not sentimental. So the memory slips almost instantly from her mind and she drags her fingers across his parted lips. He’s the last customer of the night and she’s a bit drunk, so she’s taking her time enjoying the song that blares from speakers that sound tucked away.

Levi sits up a bit straighter, his hands hovering over her thighs. She made him promise only one thing: don’t touch. But he wants nothing more than to grab her hips and drag her clothed crotch over his deliberately. Something in the motion of her hips reminds him of youth. That was so long ago. Smoke billows from her red lips and he swallows it though it suffocates him.

“What’s your name?” she straightens his collar.

“Levi,” he murmurs.

“How much do you want to touch me?”

“Are you teasing me?” He smirks, bites his lip.

“Do you want to taste me?” she asks, rolling her hips.

“I wanna _fuck_ you.” There’s nothing romantic about it.

This is the first time he’s been alone with her and he knows he shouldn’t be so vulgar. God, he wants to impress her for some reason. It’s why he’s wearing his best suit, why he parted his hair differently, and why he can’t help the provocative nonsense that spills from his lips with every prompt.

 


End file.
